Still Saying Goodbye

I find myself still saying good-bye to Allison. How was I to know, that moment, when I knew the time had come, as morning broke, to say good-bye, that I would keep saying it, over and over again, now, even years later, until some day it would become real. Yes, I know in theory that this is MY reality, but it is still not real, at times. I said good-bye. I told her I loved her, and that I would see her again. She said good-bye, and the thought of that one moment in time, still brings me to places I do not know how to visit. Saying good-bye. The final good-bye. That is, until we meet again.

As I said, I am still saying good-bye. But in a sense, an unexplainable, undefinable way, I am saying hello. Maybe because it is still too painful to say good-bye. The "official" good-bye was beautiful in many ways. God showed the grace and mercy we literally begged and pleaded for, to release Allison from her pain. The mental as well as the physical. A parent can barely stand to see a child suffer, fall off of a bike, grow weary from a broken heart, lose friends, be mistreated, struggle with depression or suicidal thoughts, lose their own child, without feeling every bit of the heartache right along with them. But to see your child go through the pain and agony associated with cancer, let alone the inability to breathe, the pleading in her eyes for it to be over...well, I have no words for that. Truly, I do not. So, yes, it was "easy" to say good-bye and thank God above for hearing her, us, even the nurses and doctors. Dear God, it was so easy. Then. Then, the hard work began. Oh, the shock helps at first. It paves the way with numbness and disbelief. It shelters and it holds you till you feel like you will crack. It even protects you. It makes you stare off and not fully comprehend what has happened. Until one day it begins to fade, bit by bit, and it becomes real. I said good-bye to my precious one. And now, I have to live. How to do just that is my curious mission.

I live by saying my continuous good-byes. My good-byes turn into hellos. And how to explain that is beyond my repertoire of words. It's just something that happens, and for me, it helps me to say good-bye, yet say hello. Good-bye to her physical state, but hello to her new, spirited self that guides me and lives on in the chamber of my sometimes hollow soul. A spirit that can often show me the path to God above and bring me so much joy, just in knowing that He is there when no one else, or nothing else, could possibly be...Good-bye to that beautiful voice, the sweet sounding "mama" that she would call me, but hello to new experiences that she guides me through. Good-bye to the touch of her fingers. Good-bye to shopping trips, future plans, and hopes and dreams. But hello to endless possibilities of travel, time, understanding and reflection. Good-bye to one daughter, but hello to another who lives with a defined purpose and renewed enthusiasm for life, who encourages me to try new things, and travel new roads. Good-bye to what I believed was a chartered course of life, but hello to places yet to be discovered.

As I stood at the Grand Canyon this week, with thoughts of my father, my mother, my brother-in-law, my child, my friends' children, my friends themselves, and many others, tears poured. I miss them all. I have said good-bye to so many. I will say good-bye to more. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing, I was in awe that there I was, little ole me, standing at the Grand Canyon. I don't know how that happened! How did I happen to be available when a friend offered me the opportunity, how did I just up and pack yet again, for an unexpected journey, how did I dare say yes, when all I wanted to do was stay home, in the confines of my own home, and do what I do best. How did I say good-bye once again to a very understanding and loving husband? How did I dare say hello to a new horizon? I did it for them, for her, for me, and because God laid the opportunity right at my feet. I said good-bye to her again, from the Grand Canyon, standing in wonderment, feeling her presence in ways I have never felt before, I said good-bye as I did that morning in January, as I have on every shore and land my feet have touched since she passed, in places I had already travelled, but now visit with a new set of eyes, a new heart, a new purpose, I am still saying good-bye, and as I said good-bye, again, still, I certainly said hello.